Page 55 of Bitter Discord

“I would rather look incompetent than get a boy killed,” Heath countered. “You’re right about Arlo. He’s not a killer. However, he left Teagan’s home of his own free will. There were no signs of a struggle. He’s a seventeen-year-old boy and knows how to sneak out. He also knows what to do if someone tries to force him into anything. The missing firearm is a major problem. How he disappeared and how his trail went cold is a mystery we need to solve if we want to find him before anyone else does. I would rather look incompetent, Landon, if it’s the only way to keep this boy alive without more of a fight.”

“If you look too incompetent, they won’t trust you to resolve this. They’ll hunt Arlo down because they won’t think you can do what they think needs to be done.” Landon crossed his arms. “Have you considered that?”

“Yes,” Heath snapped, infuriated by the difficult situation. He, Jacky, the pack, even Zuri—this was supposed to go off without a hitch, showing that a werecat could be close to the pack without it interfering negatively. It was to make Jacky look good and give her a chance to talk to some of her people and develop relationships with them while answering their pressing questions.

It wasn’t a plan without risk, but no one had considered a murder. Heath couldn’t believe his pack was involved, even trying his damnedest for them not to be.

“Pa—”

“Be productive if you’re going to argue with how I’m going to approach this,” Heath said before Landon could continue whatever he was planning to say. “If you don’t want me to look incompetent, give me a way to keep Arlo alive. I can’t think of one. If we can’t convince them that Arlo can’t be the killer, then we can’t stop them from taking up a hunt. Jacky and Zuri can’t force them to stay in that mansion indefinitely.”

“I… I know. I just don’t like seeing you throw yourself on the chopping block when this wasn’t your mistake. It’s Arlo’s. I mean, Pa… consider it. We knew this was happening. We set out some easy-to-follow rules. You were kind enough not to make them orders because you like giving people their free will. You gave Arlo the choice of staying inside at night and a choice to follow the rules or go out alone. He made his choice, and you’re paying for it.”

“Unlessthere’s magic involved,” Heath reminded his son. “Which would give Arlo no choice. Yes, I could have made them orders. I should have, but…”

“You like the whole free will thing. I know, I do, too. It’s just inconvenient when they take advantage of it.”

“Arlo will get in trouble for the choices he made that led to this. If he committed the murder…” Heath sighed. “I’ll do what must be done. If he didn’t, he’ll still find himself in trouble. Don’t worry. Let me do the talking with the werecats.”

“Of course. The only reason I’m here is to be scary. If they try to kill you, they have to take us both on.”

Heath hadn’t wanted to consider that part of the day. There was a chance someone took a shot at him, and even with Landon, they had better odds of killing him than vice versa. He was a lot more powerful than he used to be, but he also understood the power disparity between werecats and werewolves. In raw physical strength, he and Landon would be hard-pressed against a werecat older than him.

The conversation died off as Heath considered the situation he was about to walk into and the power differences he had to contend with every day. He was stronger than Jackynow. At two hundred and eighty-two, he was physically stronger than a forty-year-old werecat, who had less than fifteen years as a moon cursed, and it hadn’t always been that way. His son, physically stronger than him but less dominant, was in the same boat at nearly one hundred sixty. Jacky was probably one of the youngest and weakest of the werecats in the world, and they were only just stronger than her now.

Heath was also now in fighting range against Callahan, the strongest male werewolf in the world, the most dominant Alpha. Callahan, by himself, probably couldn’t take on a werecat his own age or even one half his age. Heath certainly couldn’t take on a two-thousand-year-old werecat. He would probably lose in a fight against Niko.

Callahan is over two thousand years old…

What makes werewolves strong is our community, and I’m about to be outnumbered by werecats.

Heath had never been concerned about Jacky being stronger. It never threatened him because he knew her too well. A room full of strangers, all anxious about the murder, was a different story entirely.

As they turned down the last road to get to the mansion, Heath glanced at his son.

“I need you on your best behavior,” he said, a warning he’d given this son more times than he could count. Landon didn’t misbehave, but he knew how to present himself in a way that scared others to the point they felt threatened. “Don’t give them a reason to think we’re here for a fight.”

“Do you think any of them will be that scared of me?”

“I think Jabari, son of Hasan, met you once, and you purposefully became your sister’s shadow. You left an impression on him. That was Jabari, who knew Jacky trusted you. These are strangers. Yes, I think you could easily scare them enough to cause a reaction neither of us could manage.”

“Good point,” Landon said, sighing. “I’ll try to… keep my face neutral.”

“I don’t think resting bitch face is your problem,” Heath said with a chuckle, and Landon bared his teeth.

“Where did you even learn that term?” Landon asked as Heath parked on the street in front of the mansion, so his truck couldn’t be blocked in the drive by anyone else.

“It’s fun to joke that Carey makes us old and out of touch, but you know I can keep up with the vernacular of the time. Don’t make this seem like it’s out of the ordinary. Plus, resting bitch face has been a saying for at least a couple of decades. It’s a saying older than Carey.”

Landon shrugged a shoulder as he unbuckled. Heath got out and met him on the sidewalk. As they walked up to the front door, Heath couldn’t stop a small smile from forming when Jacky came out to meet them. Her smile was tired, and dark rings under her eyes told him she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep.

“Have you eaten?” he asked once he was beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. He hated that she hadn’t slept, but there was nothing to be done about that. If she’d missed eating, he would give someone a piece of his mind.

Maybe Zuri…

“I did. We had breakfast. When it’s time for lunch, we’ll have another order of sandwiches delivered. Enough to feed all the werecats here and extra, so you can have some if you’re still here.” She put both hands on his chest, leaving him wondering why her expression grew concerned so quickly. Her scent wasn’t pleasant. Fear, regret, confusion, worry—he expected all of those.

“You know something,” he said, realizing it quickly. “What have you learned? What do we need to know before we go in there?”

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